The Pretend To Be Agreement

Chapter Twenty-Four

Grace

The water continues to spew out of the showerhead, but now, it was coming out cold. I stare ahead at the other side of the tub, my eyes not moving. Goosebumps litter my skin as a chill runs down my spine. Cold winter air came seeping in through the cracked window in the bathroom, and at some point earlier the whole room had been filled with mist.

My hair is plastered to the sides of my face, but the ends of the strands were beginning to dry. The ends of my hair start to curl, like they naturally do after a shower. Droplets of water hit my skin softly, but to me it felt like it was hailing.

There's emptiness inside of me; a hole in my heart where a certain somebody used to be. I had given up on crying, having run out of tears - if that was even possible. After all the death I've witness you think I'd be okay when hearing that kind of news. But no, I wasn't.

It took everything in me to not cry when I went to visit him. Every part of me wanted to break down, to fall down to my knees as they almost gave out on me, but I didn't. I stood, strong as I could be when I was looking down at him that hospital bed.

His skin had been so white, so ghost like. Grays bags hung under his eyes, his eyes just barely staying open long enough to let me say what I had to say. There wasn't anything I could do after his eyes had shut, as the doctor had told me he was in what could pass as a coma.

The possibility of him waking up was fifty-fifty thing. Based on if he had the strength, and if he didn't, then he would just go. That's what the doctor and nurses had told me. That he'd just ... go. Die was the right word, but of course that certain word was forbidden to ever be said.

I shut my eyes as the image of him laying there flashing before my eyes. Holding them closed tightly, my teeth begin to chatter. Bending my arms backward and reaching up, I grab onto the handle and turn it, and instantly the water becomes warmer.

And then, I go back to my own little world. I don't even bother to get out of the tub when the phone rings more than once, or when the old man below starts barking out random things - a basic sign of 'you're stealing all the hot water'. At this very moment I've decided to label him as insane as everything he did had no reason to be done.

But, it's not until there's a knock on the door do I feel a small rush of happiness. It disappears quickly though. Suddenly, the door opens after about thirty seconds of constant knocking, and in walks a distraught Will.

I'm slightly glad that I had decided to keep my under garments - not exactly knowing why I had - and the door on the shower slides open slowly. Looking up only the slightest I come face to face with him, and he lets out relieved sigh.

I get ready to hear about how I'm supposed to get out of the tub. How he'll tell him he's going to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder if I don't get out. What I least expected was to see him get undressed, taking everything off one at a time, every article of clothing falling to the floor except his boxers.

Pushing the door open a little more to make room for himself, he carefully steps over the edge of the tub. He looks down at me, concern written all over his face, but he doesn't say anything as holds out his hand. My eyebrows knit together in confusion, but I grab onto his hand, hesitant to do so.

Pulling me up, I almost slip, but he catches me. When I'm finally standing on my feet, my legs a bit sore from my previous position, I make eye contact with Will. Our eyes lock, and its dazzling gray and shinning Amber.

We continue to not say anything as he reaches over and grabs the bottle of body wash, flipping the lid and squeezing some onto his palm before setting it back down. He makes a circling motion with his hand, and I get it what he's trying to say and turn around. With my back facing him, I feel him brush my hair onto my shoulder, out of the way with his hand.